Wichita eagle., 1887-05-08
WICHITA. 1rs PAST AND PRESENT.
BY REV. W. PoRTEUs.
No. Ill.

prised measure and asked, what hath
God wrought" As l looked at this young,
but most remarkable city, found myself
asking the question, What hath energetic
men wrought
II we would find a parallel for the
growth and enlargement of this maiden
city we cannot do it among the olive skinned,
dark eyed daughters Of Italy; not on
the banks of the Arno that ripples songs
soft and sweet In the summer tide OF the
lilies that bend their heads ever the classic
stream.
The notes of the guitar that came to me
like dream of the past, as l sat In the
piazza San Marco at midnight. enswathed
with the scented, dewy air, the melodiOus
notes of the cantatrice. rich and rare, Gid
ing over the molten, moon Lit, waterways
of Venice, keeping time to the soft splash
of the gondoliers' oar, but all this did not
help me in to harmony with the energy
that has pushed the city of Wichita into
the face of day.
In thought have wandered as in other
days under the palm branches that shade
| the market place of Milano to inhale the
fragrance of the violets and geraniums,
whose color is so rich and whose growth is
SO luxuriant, but 1t is not the growth OF
flowers / am in search of, but the growth
of cities
have wandered along the surf beaten
shores of the glorious Adriatic, but the
cities on the shoves above and around ii
seemed to me to have attained their major
ity in the dim and distant past, and were
fast fastening to decay.
have stood, with head uncovered in
the piazza della Signoria of Dantc's and
SavOnarala's Florence, where the fiercs
| consuming flame Of one, and the fervid,
| religious zeal Of the other, flashed their
light and life through many tawny
bosom. 1 seemed to see glimpses of the
| rage of TassO's madness, burning in the
| flashing eyes of the graceful daughters of
that sunny land, but / saw 20 evidence OF
marked material progress; the song, the
singers, are all gone, or going; the builders
| have vanished; the air itself felt as If 1t
was growing old and hasting to decay.
migration can picture a queenly Mar
geurite, wandering through fOwery wales
with wreath of myrtle around her brow,
and the sweet scented acacia In her hair,
| giving volumptuous swell to your ideal
picture, but as you think, dreamy inertia
steals over your physical powers. 1t IS
poetical to think of listless forms sleeping
in the porticos of Castle del Ova, or under
the shady bowers of the Palazza di Capa-
dimonte, or sucking sunshine from Seville
oranges under the swaying elms of Sosil-
ippo.
There is an overflow Of gracefulness
amid such scenes, but no material growth;
there is plenty of poetry, but little or no
progress. In many Of the places and pala-
| IL, Id 10 Il
TO sigh over the past and sing for the
| present
Weeds have gathered and moss has grown,
| On the lowest ridge and the topmost stone;
And the wheeling bat comes Tapping his
On the walls that encircled a banqueting
king.
But we are not here to dream over the
past be it ever so poetical, but to keep step
i 70 the onward march of the nineteenth cen
tury and 1t requires quick step to do It..
We were writing about Wichita, but we
have wandered far away from the subject,
the scene and the surroundings; but the
spell. the genius of the place calls us back
asain.
In looking for parallel for the progress
sive place l turned in the wrong direction
when allowed my thoughts to wander
through the enervating air of Italy. Elk
perience reminds me that it is a pleasing
picture, and painless position to recline
| as on couch.
And look down the gondola's dark side,
| Meath the sheen of silyery moons;
And thro starlit Venice glide,
| Singing down the blue lagoons.
But I must get to where the air is crisp,
! and the winter blasts are cold, and as do
| so, the colossal form, the energetic charac-
| ter of Peter the Great towers up before my
| mind as enc of the most extraordinary men
| of modern times, a man whose very being
| and soul was spring of power, copious as
| the Nile, boiling like the geysers, his space
| in history was vast, be left an indelible
| impress upon the age in which he lived.
| If a mortal man ever walked the earth with
| a great wild soul in him, it was Peter the
Great. But have to pass by his Dumer-
Gus acts which seem like those of enchant-
ment to view him as the protector, archi-
| tect and builder of great city
This Muscovite giant bears the palm
| away from the projectors, architects and
builders of Wichita with its phenomenal
characteristics and peculiarities. All
tary man clad in furs.
As this sentence is read men begin to
marvel, a cloud crosses the brows of a
throng, feeling of uncertainty flashes
over the minds of many, a cry for proof
of the opinion advanced leaps from lip to
| lip. Let us proceed with the testimony.
| Wichita builds only thirty four hundred
houses this year, on a beautiful plain, level
as lake, and not pebble in a hundred
acres big enough to fling at bird.
Peter the Great built city Of thirty
thousand houses on frightful morass in a
single year Personal ambition was at the
back of all the broad shouldered monarch
did, 1t was city to be called by his own
name, city to perpetuate his proves
through the distant future.
The growth of Wichita, although great
to a wonderful degree falls far short Of the
first years growth of st. Pctersburgh.
But there is one redeeming feature in ia.
vor of our southwestern city when com
pared with that far northern city.
The building Of St. Petersburgh. with
its thirty thousand houses, called 70,
the sacrifice Of one hundred thousand men
Just think of it; thirty thousand houses,
and hundred thousand corpses, three
dead men for every standing house. mark
that ambition is Outlines bought at dear
rate. believe in progress, but am moi
willing to buy it at 60 high price.
Wichita is a place Of surprising growth
and yet healthy place; selfish physician
might be betrayed int calling it "a pro
vokingly healthy plsce" II builds many
houses. but digs few graves.
| Sixty eight years ago last Tuesday five
En- nlish gentlemen in q tavern at Ralfimnr,